“So… What song makes you think of me?” She watched him tap in the key code and snuggled more deeply into his jacket.
He gripped the doorknob then glanced at her, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Besides the UM fight song?”
“Oh! You are so bad!” Elizabeth grabbed Darcy from behind andstarted tickling him. His jacket slipped off her shoulders and he scooped it up with her and carried them all through the doorway.
“Hey! We have to go to a game!” She giggled. “I can get us a deal on matching orange sweatshirts!”
The only way to stop her laughter was to kiss her senseless.
Fitzwilliam Darcy navigated four languages and five continents. He bought and sold companies and funded start-ups and charities. But Elizabeth was thrilled that, as much as she was dipping her toe into the high life of fine dining and what he promised would be the rare society dinner, her sexy, well-traveled man could lose himself in her company for hours. He took great joy in making her the perfect waffle. He was more than pleased to find her a four-leaf clover in Sheep’s Meadow. He did deliciously inventive things to her body and never shied away from a command performance. But he did have big and important things to do when he tore himself away for those early morning phone calls from London and late afternoon meetings in his boardroom. Her eyes would glaze over when he spoke of amortization and maximized efficiency, and she knew that her father’s disdain for big business had some lasting effect on her.Hiswords had been ingrained years ago, but now she made the effort to listen and learn from the real number-one man in her life. When she asked him if he loved his job, though, he just smiled enigmatically. “It might be nice to relax a bit more.”
“Ah, burned out before thirty?” She laughed.
“No,” he whispered, stretching out over her and nuzzling her neck. “Happiness beckons. Always.” His hand slipped under her shirt, to that downy-soft hollow on the small of her back that he liked so much. “Stay?”
“Of course,” she murmured. As she sank into the delicious things his hands were doing, her mind wandered.Three weeks. I’ve been with him for three weeks, and I never want to leave.
They spent the week after Pemberley and the Fitzwilliam family meet-and-greet blending into each other’s everyday lives. She cooked him dinner; he wined and dined her. They exchanged apartment keys and codes and Wi-Fi passwords. Although they were together every moment possible and talked about every topic they could, there was at least one subject that remained uncanvassed: their separate beds in different states.
Elizabeth hated the distance between them as much as he did, but both were careful not to complain. She was even more careful not to talk about her dilemma. Her lease was up at the end of October, andwith Jane moving out any day, she would have to make a decision. Soon. Elizabeth knew Darcy wanted her with him. Without directly asking her to move in, he’d twice mentioned all his extra space and the empty desk she could use for her writing. But it had only been three weeks, she kept reminding herself.Three weeks.Not enough time to know whether this was as real and secure and forever as it felt. After eight or so months ofSturm und Drang, how was it possible for it all to be this easy—for them to fit so comfortably? It was wonderful and frightening, and she knew she needed to talk to him about it. But he hadn’t officially asked her to move in, and she didn’t think it was the best idea anyway—yet—so where she’d lay her head a month or two from now was an issue she kept tucking back into the deep recesses of her “Very Important Things to Do” list. There were too many happy thoughts to think about.
She was pleased when plans for Labor Day weekend switched from Netherfield to Pemberley. Although the rooms and sofas at Charles’s country house were familiar, she found Darcy’s home more comfortable. Her nerves were already on edge with the following week’s book party. Charles’s willingness to cede his house to the Hursts for the long holiday weekend freed him from hosting duties and allowed him to endlessly poke fun at Darcy and marvel at his transformation into a man of smiles and laughter. Jane, thrilled to see her sister so well loved by a good man, was bemused by Elizabeth’s newfound territorial instincts over certain chaises on the deck.
The sisters stretched out on the beach and traded notes on their happiness. Jane, wearing her official older sister hat, propped her chin on her arms and stared at Elizabeth. “I’ve never seen you so content. I’ve never seen Fitzwilliam smile so much. You’re really sweet together.”
Elizabeth grinned. “I know. He’s…we’re…it’s amazing, Janey. After all that spitting at each other, we just get along so well. He’s so thoughtful.”
Jane laughed. “Ah, so the darkest secret of Mr. Noir is that he’s a nice guy. Wetriedto tell you.”
“He has a few other secrets,” Elizabeth murmured. “But he’s a really, really good man.”
Jane gave her sister a thoughtful look. “We’re very lucky. Such good men to love and to love us.” Their eyes met. If either was thinking of their parents’ miserable marriage, neither voiced it.
Instead, Jane had another topic to traverse. “Look, I don’t want toleave you in the lurch, and I know I’m barely around anyway, so do you mind if I make it official and move into the new place next week? It’s so much easier for work and planning the wedding.” Jane crinkled her nose into that cute expression that always earned her the answer she wanted and smiled at her sister. “Of course, I’ll still pay my rent.”
Elizabeth, unsurprised, nodded. Jane had only slept at the apartment once in the past three weeks. Her own track record was hardly better.
“No problem.”
“Thanks. Charles will be thrilled.” Jane sat up and reached for the sunscreen. “You’re not staying there much yourself, are you?”
Elizabeth noted the raised, perfectly waxed eyebrows above Jane’s sunglasses. She shrugged. “Some.”
“As your older sister, I just want to remind you to be a good girl. Be smart.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes at her sister’s tongue-in-cheek advice. “Oh God, shut up.”
“I’ve said my piece. So, it’s only two more months,” Jane said lightly. “Have you decided what to do? Stay there or find a roommate? New Jersey or New York?”
I have no idea.
Jane glanced at the two men bodysurfing in the late afternoon waves. “Fitzwilliam has a lot of room at his place, or so I hear.”
“Jane! We haven’t even been together a month yet!”
“I know. And I repeat: I’ve never seen you happier.”
“Yes. He’s the best.”
